


Will To Meaning

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-14
Updated: 2002-11-14
Packaged: 2019-05-15 13:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14791550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Set in the present, with flash-backs to various points in CJ and Toby's long friendship. Angst in abundance. Romance, too.





	Will To Meaning

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Will To Meaning**

**by:** Cate Amere  


**Category:** CJ/ Toby Romance/Angst  
**Rating:** YTEEN  
**Summary:** Set in the present, with flash-backs to various points in CJ and Toby's long friendship. Angst in abundance. Romance, too.  
**Notes:** Hi~ WTM is my first fan-fic, I hope you enjoy it. I posted it in the Yahoo CJ/Toby fan-fic group, and got some nice feedback, so I'm submitting it to this site. So, what's your Will to Meaning? Read, and decide!  


* * *

{He said her name, and she folded it into her heart, to remember always. He said it with no particular tenderness or meaning- and certainly not desire, but for a moment, she could imagine.} 

**2002, September.**

`Yes?' she answered, looking and smiling up at him, forgetting the files and briefs that lay on her desk. And there he was, the man she'd loved, the man she'd seen get married, the man whose wife she'd hugged in congratulations. Toby and Andi's marriage was long since over, but for all intents and purposes, he remained a married man. 

Toby looked nervous, as if he knew what he was about to say would earn her unique brand of wrath. Nevertheless, he proceeded; 

`Did you get the thing?' 

She made reply easily, sweetly almost- `Sure. I saw it Toby, why do you ask?' 

`Well, y'know. I figured you'd be pissed.' 

`You *figured* I'd be *pissed*? You-' 

A sentence away from their collective spontaneous combustion, CJ's phone rang. 

`CJ Cregg. Hi mom- what are you-? 

Toby's eyebrows shot up in silent surprise. He knew from his long friendship with CJ that the confident press secretary's relationship with her mother was troubled, at best. A call from her mother usually meant there was some reason her father couldn't call. His mind threw up an opera of potential tragedies… 

`But I spoke to him on Tuesday. And he said it was…. yes mom, he told me… well he said it was routine.' 

Toby shifted awkwardly, leaning against the wall. He was torn between his feeling that he was intruding, and his absolute need to know what had happened, and how she was. 

`I'll take the next flight mom. I'll see you soon.' 

CJ pressed the handset into the receiver, but kept her hand and her eyes on the phone as she told him, in a word- `Cancer'. Toby was a great speechwriter, who knew the value of words, the value of pause, the value of silence. He knew instinctively that the only thing he could tell her was written with his eyes, and punctuated by a soft, near inaudible exhaling of air. He concluded the speech by gently lifting her hand from the phone, and holding it instead with his. 

Her eyes were unreadable. Toby prided himself on knowing how to read her eyes, a skill that was more a matter of survival than choice when it came to CJ. And then she spoke again, and again it was only a word- `Toby…'. He replied quickly, so she didn't have to ask- `I'll tell Leo, and then we'll go pack our things. Bonnie can get us a flight. 'CJ nodded, and shuffled papers on her desk until he'd left the room and closed the door behind himself. Immediately, but impossibly slowly, she collapsed into her chair. 

* * *

**A University, Somewhere, Sometime**

**The diary of CJ Cregg…**

> "The uncommon finality of a late Monday night  
> Corridors from younger days  
> And me.
> 
> For here, amongst the rustling leaves  
>  I will search for answers to   
>  Our dry hands  
>  And my red eyes  
>  And each cross'd path we've shared. 
> 
> A softness through the window comes  
>  So I may sleep this autumn night  
>  (With dreams of you, in sight) 
> 
> I suppose that it would seem strange that I am not more affected, more saddened by his leaving. But then, he himself, and our friendship, has been so out of the ordinary, that this progression seems strangely natural- if not inevitable. Finally, this strange (again, I use that word) journey has come to an end. Already I feel both loss and liberation. The loss of a great friend, confidante, imperfect ideal and way of life, and the liberation of my mind and soul from the ancient ties and meanings that we both share, but which I value differently. 
> 
> I will walk out these doors, which have for some time opened and shut upon the quiet cathedrals of my teenage romantics. As for an apt conclusion? The lead will come, as always, from him. 
> 
> It seems strange to me, in a way- that we have never shared a kiss. Not that I expect him to love me, or want me, but that we seem to have run out of ways to express this bond we share, this bond so undefined. 
> 
> His final paper is due on Thursday, and he's leaving that same day to intern on the Sheppherd campaign with Robin. I don't know yet whether to go to the airport with him, or-? 
> 
> For now, ClaudiaJ"

**2002, CJ's Apartment**

Hurriedly, blindly, she threw clothing and files into a suitcase, while Toby hovered nervously in her living room. He circled round the room, taking in for the for the hundredth time the life of CJ, through her books. Fitzgerald, Hemmingway, Joseph Heller, anthologies of John Donne, Robert Frost, Walt Whitman, Elizabeth Barret-Browning, Tabitha….. Toby blushed as he picked up the book of Tabitha's work, remembering CJ's misinterpretation of his feelings for the poet laureate. CJ strode out of her bedroom, saw Toby looking at Tabitha's book, and threw him a glance which he understood perfectly `I'm disgusted, but not surprised'. As he clumsily reshelved it, CJ grabbed a book and stuffed it quickly into her handbag, such that Toby failed to see the title she'd chosen. In response to his questioning look, she answered `Comfort book. Let's go, get your stuff.' 

Toby opened the door, stepping back to let CJ through. He breathed in quickly as she flounced past him, recognising her perfume with a smile. Since college, that was CJ. Gardenias, spring, rain and dancing… 

* * *

`After flying Air Force 1, business class just doesn't cut it anymore' 

Toby smiled at CJ, glad that she was making jokes, being herself. 

`Well no, but at least you don't have the Press Corps bugging you!' 

`True that.' 

CJ's gaze, and concentration wandered out the window, and Toby wondered whether she was wishing Danny was there, instead of him. He'd never been able to ask her, and she'd never been able to tell him, what had happened with Danny. As far as he knew, she was still in love with him. As far as she knew, Toby didn't care either way. 

The pilot's voice came over the PA system, to announce that the flight duration and details. 

`Five hours!' CJ exclaimed. `Five hours', she repeated, her worry evident in her voice and her eyes. 

Instinctively, Toby reached out to CJ's hand, which was on the armrest between them, and gently laced his fingers between hers. CJ looked at him and smiled, nearly laughing at the situation. How many years, she mused, had she kept her hand on the armrests of planes, on the middle seat of cars, next to his as they walked, in the hope that someday he would take her hand in his? For the first time in a long time, she hadn't even thought about it, and today he had taken her hand. She shivered slightly as his thumb stroked the back of her hand, his eyes following the patterns he traced. Feeling her shiver, he reached for the blanket on the seat in front of him, releasing her hand in the process. 

She was grateful to him for the gesture, but needed his touch more than anything. She surprised him by reaching for his hand under the blanket they now shared, and resting her head back on her chair, so that her face was close to his. `If I forget to tell you later, thankyou.' They fell asleep like that, hands pressed together, faces inches apart. CJ, floating in the confused state between awake, and dream-state, let her mind drift back…. 

**New Years Eve, 1989**

Somehow, they had become closer friends since their college days. Late night phone calls, letters, occasional meetings and drunken all-nighters; somehow it had kept them together. They talked of everything, including their relationships- because they always had. For the past year, they had been living in New York, though CJ was going back to California in January. So, to conclude their year together, they spent an evening together, on New Years. 

CJ swirled around on the dance-floor, laughing at the scene around her. Toby's New York friends, pollies, literati, intelligentsia, were dancing outlandishly to swing music. Toby watched her from across the room, where he sat alone, drinking scotch. She was incredible. She was completely unaware of her own statuesque beauty, her radiance, and the power of her smile. Her dress was a beautiful white silk, with a soft pattern of black flowers dancing across it. The top was supported by thin black straps that lay over her achingly beautiful collarbone, and which laced and tied in long straps across her back. 

He stood up, circling slowly round the room, as the song changed to `The Way You Look Tonight'. Quickly, the dancers merged into couples, and CJ automatically began a slow but urgent walk off the dance floor. She was stopped in her tracks as she felt someone pulling slowly on the straps of her dress, and turned around to see Toby holding them. `Care to dance?' he asked. `Always'. Seamlessly, they moved into eachothers' arms. Toby's right hand was warm on the small of her back, his left holding hers. She moved closer into his embrace, pressing herself against him as much as she could. Toby breathed softly into her hair, and repeated her words back `Always'. CJ moved her arms around his neck, and he circled his round her tiny waist. As the song reached its final notes, they stood, locked together- until the count-down began. 

`Come on, let's go outside' she yelled over the chanting voices `20-19-18-17'. He nodded, and they ran outside to the terrace, still holding hands. From the streets below and the roof-tops above their own, they heard the joyous count-down, and the immediate cry of `Happy New Years'. Together they stood, looking at eachother without a smile or a word. Eventually, Toby managed- `Happy New Year.', as a statement, not an exclamation. `I hope so' she replied, and then they laughed, and hugged. Toby kept one arm around her, and she round him, so that they stood cheeks pressed together, watching the fireworks. And so they remained for close to an hour, his hand stroking her back. He was leaving the next day for a campaign tour, and she would return to California before he did to New York. This was then, their last night together. `I –' he began falteringly, and she looked up at him and smiled sweetly `You're my best friend Toby, you always have been. We'll never change'. She meant the words as a gift, as a piece of heart for him to keep, but he took it as a slap in the face. Here, he had been about to tell her the truth, tell her that he loved her, but of course to her, he was just a friend. 

‘Thanks Claudia', he said stiffly, letting go of her at last. 

`You called me Claudia', she said. 

`It seemed appropriate. And, I- I love you-' . 

Misunderstanding his words, she replied lightly: 

`Oh Toby, you know I love you too', and gave him a friendly hug. They talked on for a time, holding eachother occasionally, while both their hearts broke….. 

**The Diary of CJ Cregg**

> Fireworks exploding around us, the world seemed quiet- somehow quieter than it ever had before. It was midnight, or at least I supposed it was; assumed from the cheers and lights. We stood on the roof, waiting for a moment that would never come, a feeling we would never share. But he held me, and it was at once too much, and not enough. 
> 
> But then. Ours had always been a story of things left unsaid, unwisely, and things said- superfluously. When I met him, I was charmed by his voice, and smile, and fell immediately in love with him. This was both obvious and ridiculous, inevitable and utterly avoidable, or so it should have been. To him, however, I was nothing more than a friend, a counselor, an intellectual sparring partner. 
> 
> I was a conscience, and an excuse, a hearer of sins and lauder of virtue. I was a photo on his desk and a letter proudly sent. We read Hunter S Thompson in the late night and in the early morning, the Times over breakfast, and went to movies in the afternoons. After our late night talking and drinking sessions, we would sleep in his room, him on his bed, and me on the couch. The CD playing and the fan spinning, we talked of everything, and he was always the one to say goodnight first; to end our conversation and leave me staring wide-eyed into the blankness of room. I slept fitfully in the night, waking and turning endlessly to face away from him, not before studying his back in the dappled light. I would leave early, eager to escape the smiles and pauses of our morning world. 
> 
> We could only ever dance slowly, only ever hold hands with our fingers intertwined, only ever write letters of love (platonic!) and confession, and only ever forgive each-other, never completely understand. We cheered in the right places, cried together, spoke bitterly when necessary, and fought on together always. This is the story of our friendship thus far, of the past year we've shared, and the history of the years to come, yet unwritten. 
> 
> S0- ClaudiaJ 

**2002**

As the pilot announced that the flight was almost over, Toby leaned over and quietly kissed CJ on the forehead, lingering as long as he could. `We're here', he whispered. 

* * *

**2002**

They stepped off the plane and into the heavy shock of the warm Californian night air. CJ inhaled deeply, taking it all in. Toby paused with her a minute on the stairs, then placed his hand silently on the small of her back. Together, they walked into the night, and all it held……. 

***Back in the day….***

`Go' 

`What the hell kind of a way is that to answer the phone?' 

`Ahhh Tobias….' 

`Seriously- I mean I know you're in California, but-?' 

`Well that's exactly it. I'm being cutting edge. I'm being risky. I'm grabbing the bull by the horns.' 

`So that's what the kids are calling it these days…' 

`Uh-huh.' 

`So anyway, how's- everything?' 

`Everything's good, something's missing.' 

`Know what it is?' 

`Nope, but I'm thinking about it. I'll let you know.' 

`Listen, I've got to come talk to you.' 

`Well that would be nice, but- y'know. Where are you calling from- New York or Washington?' 

`I'm standing outside your apartment. Feel like buzzing me up?' 

`You're serious???? Oh there you are! I'll be right down!' 

Toby's guarded face and measured eyes abandoned their usual reserve, as he saw CJ for the first time in months. She opened the door, and grinned at him in a way that made his insteps melt away…..When he saw her like this, he was always reminded of the line from `their' movie, The Philadelphia Story `I'm standing here on my own two hands, going crazy'…. 

* * *

**2002**

Toby trailed behind CJ as they entered the hospital, struggling to keep up with her long, quick strides. Breathless, they stopped at the front desk. `CJ Cregg', she gasped. `My father is here'. 

`Of course Ms Cregg, I know who you are. Come right this way' 

Toby smiled his encouragement at her as they reached her father's room. The nurse asked ; `Is this your husband?' 

Before Toby could laughingly deny the very question they were so frequently asked, CJ lightly inquired- `Why?'. 

`Because he's only just come out of ICU, and it's still only family- so' 

`Yes, he is my husband, and he'll be visiting my father with me.' 

CJ didn't notice Toby's surprise at her lie, or his hastily concealed pleasure. He knew she had said it only so he could come into the room with her, but the fact that she needed him in there was awe inspiring in itself. And, if he could pretend to himself for the next day or few that he was her husband, well, that was a fringe benefit. 

It was CJ's turn to smile at a nervous Toby, weary of intruding into this achingly private family scene. But she reached out her hand in trust and in friendship, so he returned her smile, and her love. Together, they entered the room. 

`Oh Dad'; the cry escaped involuntarily and desperately from her lips. Her father slept silently on the starched hospital bed. He looked older, and more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him. She was struck by his bare feet and legs, which seemed to expose him, render him fragile and at the mercy of the world. She inhaled sharply, unevenly. 

`Mom?' she asked, not moving to touch or comfort her mother. `He's been asleep for a little while, Claudia. The rest does him good. He's not so bad, just tired and nauseous. When he's well enough, they'll start with the treatment. Right now, he's in a bad patch, but they say that in two or three days, he'll be well enough to begin- whatever it is he needs to.' 

CJ nodded her head, kept nodding silently as she processed the information and the scene in her mind. Her mother interrupted her thought-stream `Listen honey, I'm going to go get some coffee. Why don't you and Toby stay with your father for a while?'. 

Immediately after CJ's mother had closed the door, Toby stepped into the breach. He stood closely behind CJ, so that he could hear her breathing, and she could feel his breath on her neck. Tentatively, he placed his hand on her shoulder, stroking her collarbone lightly with his thumb. Instinctively, CJ leaned back into his arms, allowing herself this rare moment of closeness. Strengthened by this contact, she reached out and took her father's hand gently, not wanting to wake him. It was this touch that finally broke her strong exterior. For an instant, they were both unsure of whether her rapid breathing and evident panic would turn into hysterical laughter, or pained sobs. It was the latter. Quickly, so as not to wake her father, Toby guided her out of the room and then turned to face, and hold her. For long minutes, long seconds, she sobbed violently, breathed raggedly, and shook, all as she was cradled in Toby's arms. He stroked her hair and her back, her rocked her quietly, and he stood still with her as the last of the tears subsided and her breathing returned slowly to normal. She took a single step back, sliding her hands down his arms until they stood a foot apart, holding hands. `Let's get some coffee', she managed, with a faint smile. They walked to the small kitchenette provided for the North wing of the hospital, hands held, fingers intertwined. CJ began to poor the coffee, then had to stop- frustrated by her still persistent shaking. `Damn it!', she exclaimed, clearly irritated not just by her inability to perform this task, but by the weakness she felt she'd shown him. `Ceej, it's okay. I'll do it', he smiled. She sat down in an armchair, and before she had a chance to say `white, no sugar', he'd handed her a cup of perfectly made coffee. `You know how I like my coffee', she observed gratefully. `Of course CJ, of course.' 

Together they sat, drinking coffee. With his arm around her, and her head on his shoulder, they faced the long night together. 

* * *

**2002**

Now, watch her fold long arm over arm, long leg over leg. Watch his body shift and press into hers, all without touching. All as they sit, waiting and opposite each other, in the hospital room. Normally, she would notice his eyes sliding over her smooth, brown arms. Normally, she'd notice as he studied her eyes, trying endlessly to define and remember their exact colour and shape. But today, she doesn't. 

They have not spoken in over an hour, when first they entered her father's room. He knows though, that it was despair that first cast over her eyes. He knows that with a firm blink, she reproached herself again for a moment of weakness. He knows that her heart and mind softened, and ached for her father's pain. And he knows now- as she continues shifting in her chair- that she must stand, and run. Run before the room, her world, and her patience, disappear. 

He thinks back to the first time he saw that look…. 

* * *

**Back when… - The Diary of CJ Cregg**

> Today he told me. We sat on my terrace, watching the sun melt away. Eventually, he found the words. 
> 
> `CJ, the reason I've come out here… I've met a girl' 
> 
> I shattered, as he said the words: a slow, noisy fall to the ground. At once, it was over. Over before… 
> 
> `I'm going to marry her, CJ' 
> 
> Suddenly, my world shrank, no longer containing Toby. And that world was too small and too cold to bear. 
> 
> Finally, I managed a reply- 
> 
> `Toby, I'm sorry, it's just been a really bad day.' 
> 
> `Huh?' 
> 
> `I'm sorry, I just feel tired, and- and- ` 
> 
> `That's it? I fly cross country to tell you I'm getting married, but you don't- you're *tired* ?' 
> 
> `Listen-' 
> 
> I stopped, unable to find words that would mean anything near to what I felt. Then, I shook my head slowly, and placed my hand on my heart. 
> 
> `Toby, I love you. I'm happy for you. So happy' 
> 
> `I know. Thank you.' 
> 
> He paused, then reached out, and placed his hand on the back of mine, which was still resting on my heart. Slowly, our hands and bodies shifted, so we sat there, knees touching, both pairs of hands holding. We sat that way for a long time, and I thought back to that New Year's so long ago, wondering what might have happened had I spoken. Of course I didn't, and of course, I never will. For his life is not with me, and his heart was never mine, as mine is his. 
> 
> We'll talk, and we'll hug, and we'll know each other in the future. But never as we have, never as we did today. Things will change. And now, like Anne Shirley, I must go, and reconstruct my world- without my best friend, my soul mate, and the man I love. 
> 
> \- Claudia J.

* * *

**2002….**

`I can't take another night in here. Let's try that hospital motel down the road.' 

`Sure', CJ replied gratefully, realising he was asking what he knew she wouldn't. 

They walked in silence, in the night. `She walks in beauty-` thought Toby, in the pauses they shared, comfortably and easily. 

`Just one sir' 

`Only one room free? In the whole motel?' 

`Yes sir. It is a lovely room though, double bed…' 

`Look, if it's all the same, we'll try somewhere else.' 

`Toby? It's fine.' `We'll take it.', she added, to the motel manager. 

Toby looked at her in surprise, and once again tamped down his pleasure at their newfound intimacies, remembering that this closeness was temporary, circumstantial. He opened the door to their room, and stepped back to let her in. `Home sweet home', he whispered as she passed, so she felt it on her neck and shuddered, imperceptibly. 

Later, they were eating Chinese on the bed, with Cole Porter playing on the radio. CJ laughed as he told her stories from old campaign days, relaxing into the humour and familiarity of his voice. She told him stories of Adam and Julia, and her nephew Justin, which he pretended not to have heard before. Together, they remembered and laughed over a Scrabble game they'd played once at Manchester, which had ended in a tile-fight, and an unfortunate incident for Josh and the letter `Q'. 

Eventually, they cleared the food away, and changed for bed. 

In the darkness, she said: 

`This has been great Toby. I'm glad we're having this little sleep- over tonight.' 

`Me too.' 

Though he couldn't see her in the dark, he felt her roll towards him and smile, then roll onto her right side, so that her back was to him. 

Toby spoke: 

`If I forget to tell you later, thanks for bringing me.' 

She smiled, pleased that he had remembered her words on the plane so closely. Under the cool white covers, she moved slowly back towards him. She felt his left hand slip tentatively on to her hip, rubbing gently back and forth. She slid her hand over his, moving it slowly, so slowly, up her stomach, up the soft roundness of her breasts, and finally resting his hand on her collarbone of the shoulder that lay on the pillow. They both moved closer together, so that he spooned her. 

`Goodnight' 

`Goodnight' 

She turned her face up to his, and kissed him on the cheek, the corners of their mouths grazing. Toby pulled her still closer, and then they were silent, waiting for sleep to come. 

`Don't you ever sleep?' CJ asked 

`How did you know I wasn't?' 

`Your breathing. You breathe differently, deeper, when you sleep.' 

`Huh. Well, what about you- don't you sleep?' 

`Right now, I'm happy to be awake. I feel safe. Loved.' 

`You're always loved, you know.' 

`I do. As are you.' 

CJ turned to face him, still in his arms. Suddenly, she was kissing his cheeks, edging closer to his mouth. Toby reveled in the feeling of her soft, raspberry lips pressing slowly against his cheek. He felt her warm breath in between kisses, and forced himself not to kiss her back, on the lips. His heart ached, with desire, and confusion, and anger. 

`Excuse me'. Toby forced himself to leave her arms, and a place he knew they would have gone. Part of him, well nearly all of him, wished he'd stayed. But he knew it was in loneliness, and in fear, that she sought the release and comfort of their contact. He splashed his face with water, angry at her thoughtlessness, recklessness with his heart. Of course, she wouldn't, couldn't have known how he'd dreamt of the right to hold her, love her…make love to her. Then he felt angry with himself, for rejecting her and leaving her alone. Though he had no other choice, he'd hurt her, and probably pushed her away. 

CJ lay in bed, trying not to cry. Once again, she'd attempted to tell him that he was what she wanted. Once again, she'd risked their friendship, and the closeness they shared. 

Toby stepped back into bed, and reached out for her hand. She took it, and they both felt forgiveness. He slid his arm around her shoulder, and she turned to him. They slept like that- his arm around her, her head on his shoulder, and their hands intertwined, resting on his stomach. 

Feeling *à la fois* together and alone in each other's arms, they dreamt impossible dreams, and imagined impossible scenes. 

So passed the night. 

* * *

**Back when: The Night Before the Wedding**

CJ closed the cubicle door behind her, and leaned heavily against it. Her mind felt heavy, the result of too much- but not quite enough – champagne. She wondered how many times she'd escaped like this, hid herself, tried to find herself. Of course, these escapes didn't bring answers, or absolution, just escape. That in itself was valuable, the few minutes' respite before returning to face whatever it was she felt she couldn't. She listened to the sounds of the party: music, champagne corks, laughter. She'd been determined to enjoy herself, or if not- make it seem as though she was. Tomorrow, her best friend, and the man she loved, was getting married. 

* * *

**2002**

`Hello?' CJ's morning voice croaked. Toby stirred slowly, and turned to listen. 

`Really? That's great Mom. We'll pack as soon –' 

`Here with me. Where did you think?' 

`Fine.' 

`We'll meet you at St Andrew's then.' 

She hung up the phone, and turned to face him. It's Mom- my Dad's doing really well, they're going to fly him to St Andrew's in DC, apparently there's a guy' 

`A guy?' 

`You know, an expert, whatever. Anyway, let's pack.' 

They made the trip back to DC in near silence, as they both contemplated what the end of their journey would mean. The intimacy they had shared on the flight to California was notably absent on the way home. They didn't hold hands, or sleep, intertwined. Toby didn't put his hand on the small of her back as they stepped off the plane, or as they walked to the cab. CJ didn't lean close to him, or catch his eye, as they drove into the night. 

Finally, they arrived at CJ's apartment. Toby pulled his luggage out too, insisting he'd help her with her things, and then call another cab. Silently, they carried her bags into her apartment. She stepped onto the stairs with him, and they shared an awkward silence. Suddenly, he realised that she had tears in her eyes, and reached up to brush one away as it trickled down her cheek. 

`Why?' he asked. 

`For God's sake Toby. This week-'. She gestured, unable to complete that particular sentence. Somehow, she drew on the lifetime of half-smiles, and hidden tears that had led her to this point, and managed to ask the question she needed answered. She continued: 

`Ten years ago, I asked you a question. You said then that you didn't know how to answer it. When you've got an answer, let me know. Otherwise, I can't – can't do * this *' 

* * *

**Back when….**

Eventually, CJ forced herself to leave the comfort of the bathroom cubicle. She walked uncertainly across the dancefloor, heading for the bar. To her surprise, she saw that many of the guests had left already, and that most were saying their goodbyes. She watched Andi hug Toby goodbye, and then hop into a car with her bridesmaids, going home to rest before the wedding the following day. 

Toby joined CJ at the bar, and picked up a bottle of champagne and two glasses. 

`You never threw me a buck's party. As a best man, you've been negligent in your duties. So come, and let's get drunk, see some strippers' 

Laughing, CJ replied: `I'm your witness, not your best man. Also I don't think my kind of strippers would be your kind. Let's take a walk, anyway'. 

They walked in comfortable silence, hands intertwined for what they felt would be the last time. Eventually, they sat under a tree in a nearby park, nervously drinking the champagne too quickly. Toby leant his back against the tall tree, and pulled her back into his arms. 

`I'm going to miss you, you know' 

`Me too.' 

`Ceej, I've got something for you.' 

`Damn straight! If you only knew how much that toaster cost me!' 

He pulled a small, worn book from his suit-coat pocket. CJ examined the title: `Man's Search for Reason', by Victor Frankl. 

`Light stuff, huh?' 

`Very funny. Claudia, I want you to have this- because I think you'll be able to use it. This man, this incredible man, Frankl- he lived through concentration camps, his family didn't. For a time, he couldn't understand why some survived and others didn't, given that some less strong lived through it. He was a psychologist, and at the end of it all, he said he had it figured out. Those who survived were those that knew why they had to. Those who knew what their purpose in life was: he called it `will to meaning'.. It can be anything- saving rainforests, taking care of your children, writing poetry, loving someone. It's your will to meaning. You've got to find it, then live to it.' 

`Toby?' 

`Yeah?' 

`What's yours? What's your will to meaning?' 

`Honestly? I don't know.' 

`Me neither.' 

Toby's arms tightened round her, and she turned her head back towards him. Slowly, he leaned forward, and kissed her softly, lightly, on the lips. 

`Thank you' she said, and he thought she meant for the book. They sat like that til dawn, never speaking, and barely moving. As the sun came up, they stood and hugged a goodbye- of sorts. 

CJ was crying and Toby had tears in his eyes. 

`Toby, if you ever figure out what it is, let me know. Wives, husbands, no matter what.' 

`I promise.' 

She walked away. 

* * *

**2002**

Toby looked at her blankly, stunned by what she'd said. He'd known the answer for years, wanted to tell her for years, never realising she'd always wondered. CJ mistook his stunned look for a lack of comprehension. Frustrated, she explained- 

`I asked you, Toby, what your will to meaning is. Do you know yet?' 

`I've always known. I just never knew how to say it. It's you, CJ. You're the reason I want to come to work, not just to see you, but to do good things, because you give me reasons why I should. You're the reason I want to write, the reason I want to have children, the reason I want to see each day come. You're all my reasons, you're everything. You're my will to meaning.' 

`Why- Andi? I thought you wanted to reconcile with her?' 

`I loved Andi, and I was lucky to have that love. But she was never what you've always been.' 

CJ faltered, feeling the tears well up in her eyes, and her throat constrict instantly. 

Somehow, she managed: 

`Don't you want to know, Toby?' 

`What?' 

`My will to meaning.' 

She paused, and withdrew from her pocket a book which he identified as being the one she'd snuck into her bag before the flight to California- her `comfort' book. She held it up, and he read the title – `Man's Search for Meaning'. Surprised, he looked up to her: 

`It's you, Toby.' 

Then they were laughing through their tears, as they fell into each other's arms. Toby whispered into her hair- 

`I love you' 

And she replied, in the only way she could: 

`Too'. 

The first kiss. Perfect. 

`CJ' he sighed into her hair. 

He said her name, and she folded it into her heart. For, it was the first time in their new honesty, closeness, purpose. 

They could only ever dance slowly, only ever hold hands with fingers intertwined, only ever write letters of love and confession, and for the first time – understand each other, not just forgive. They cheered in the right places, cried together, and fought on together always. This is their story thus far, of the past year they've shared, and the history of their love, yet unwritten. 


End file.
